Never forgotten
by bloodymary2
Summary: Nothing is ever forgotten... MPJR. ON HIATUS indefinately... sorry
1. Hidden secrets

DISCLAIMER: All characters such as Miss Parker, Jarod, Broots, Sydney, Angelo and all those bad, bad men, do not belong to me. I am not their creator, unfortunately. They belong to a bunch of three lettered words I can never remember. No money could possibly come out of a lawsuit against me... I don't even live in the USA. So let me borrow them for a while and I'll give them back later, unchanged... Well...almost.

WARNING: This is not a sequel to 'Smile before this is over'. I apologize for making the begging reviewer's waiting but I had to get this one out of my system. However I am working on the sequel.

AUTHOR's NOTE: I have already written 5 chapters for this one, but I need to know what you think about this first. If I get good reviews I should be updating them in three to four days period. That's how long it would take me to pass them to the computer and clean them up... The original papers are a mess! SO REVIEW!

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**NEVER FORGOTTEN**

by BloodyMary2

Chapter 1: _MORE HIDDEN SECRETS_

Broot's point of view:

Though he worked in a place where danger lurked at every corner and life was as brief and precious as the next moment you found yourself still breathing, Francis Broots found his weeks filled with monotonous routines. He came in every morning after watching his precious daughter Debbie enter the yellow school bus; checked in with Sydney, the Freudian psychiatrist who always seemed to be the first one to come in every morning and the last one to leave every night; went through the mainframe and all other established contacts for any news on Jarod, the ever elusive pretender; got scared to death by Miss Parker, his secret crush, a beautiful and tormented soul, always hiding behind an ice cold mask; found another Center secret, hid from Lyle, the psychotic cannibal from Hell; went home...

Strange that many would consider this "routine" a true trial of courage, when he himself considered all this a trial of guts. Of how long you could hold down your stomach's contents after each and every secret revealed, after each and every life ruined, taken, locked away. Of how long you could bow your head down and do nothing, just to survive another day.

He sighed...

The computer geek had never meant to get involved in all of this. He had been a man of simple needs and reasonable dreams. But when the job offer presented itself, from a research company, pioneer in every single field, the pay had been too good an offer to let it pass. At the sight of the enormous, amazing building, surrounded by steel gates and a private beach, he accepted without question. He should have known better... Should have been suspicious, ought to have noticed that it all sounded too good to be true. Too much secrecy. Too many figures on that paycheck.

He would have remained in the dark, if not for Mr. Raines or the rumors and screams echoing from lower levels. Now all he wished for was a way out. To grab Debbie and run as fast and as far away as possible from this factory, which seemed to produce only nightmares and death... But he couldn't. No one dared leave the Centre. Not alive anyway. Like Miss Parker had once said... No one left the Center unless it was in a body bag.

And he wasn't prepared for that.

Not yet.

Sighing again, the balding man hurried to finish his much need coffee before either Miss Parker or Mister Raines came bursting in, her in high stiletto heels or him with the constant wheezing, followed by the creaking sound of his oxygen tank, making the tech spill the java all over his shirt. It was such a common occurrence, that Broots had learned to bring a spare.

But today, it was neither the huntress nor the emphysema that got the scared man wet. No, this time, what made him jump up his seat, was the thumping sound of the ventilation crate as it came crashing to the floor. Turning around, Broots waited for Angelo to come out of the shadows, as the empath had done on many occasions. But he never did.

_Strange... _

Gathering all the courage the usually squirmish man could muster, Broots approached the vent, all the way frightened that something would jump him... Paranoid and a bit on edge, he walked quietly, not trusting for a moment that things were not as scary as they seemed. After all, this was the Centre. Again, no one did.

As he got closer, the tech heard a faint and soft whimper. Hesitation. Fear. Small prayer to the skies. After a moment and a couple of years off of his life, Broots found himself face to face with a pair of sad, blue eyes... It was Angelo, as he had predicted, staring into space, silent tears running down his cheeks. He was murmuring something under his breath, agony clearly etched on the lines of his face.

Not knowing what to do or say, Broots made a move to leave, thinking about calling Sydney or Miss Parker, who seemed to understand Angelo the best. He found himself unequipped to handle the empath under these circumstances. A hand on his arm, however, stopped him short. While the strong grip managed to hold him in place, Broots could detect a quiver coming from the man before him. The tech started fidgeting, both scared and anxious, but unable to free himself. He wondered how a frail looking man like Angelo could possess such great physical strength... But then he remembered the endless excursion through the air vents. Shaking his head, Broots refocused on the situation at hand.

_Breathe... _

" Angelo, what's wrong?" Stuttering through the question, he seeked within himself some kind of self control, he had never been known to possess, while attempting to release his trapped arm... He failed. Expecting the worse, he concentrated on Angelo and asked him again. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for the words, fluently spoken, by a man, who Broots had always believed to be incapable of true communication.

"It's hurting to breathe, I can't open my eyes. Oh God it's so dark... And there was so blood, oh so much blood... So much anger. There was nothing I could have done. Nothing, nothing... Nothing I could do... No, no, no, no... You weren't supposed to let this happen... You promised me... You promised..." The man crying within the small air circulation system, rocked back and forth, his words filled with heart wrecking desperation. His voice had started with a deep, though childlike tone, resembling a teen. His last words, however took on a softer tone... Barely a whisper and Broots could have swore it had sounded like a girl.

Angelo was hyperventilating...

Then, it dawned on him. And his scarce breakfast threatened to make an unwelcome appearance. What Broots heard were not the empath's words or feelings. The childlike man was channeling someone else, probably two different people. He shuddered to think about the implications of Angelo's words. Because they meant, that somewhere in the bowels of the Center, people were being tortured, maybe even being killed.

Screams to fill the hollow silence.

New blood on already tainted walls...

Again he wondered... How long he could remain unbiased to the happenings of this Hell...

Broots sighed.

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REVIEW! REVIEW! It is the quickest way to bribe the author into giving you more... 


	2. Hidden truths

DISCLAIMER : in chapter 1...

A/N: Apreciation to all who reviewed... **Ann, youte, Gemini-M, rhapsody-child-of-the-sky, phi4858, Nans and leochick, my very first review! **Like I promised, quick uptades. I know it is all a big mystery in the first few chapters, but I am working on an elaborate plot I think you all like, so be patient.

Now, chap 2!

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Chapter 2: _MORE HIDDEN TRUTHS_

Sydney's point of view:

That is how Sydney found them. Angelo, with his body half obscured by the vent, rocking back and forth, whispering over and over something that the psychiatrist's battered ears could not hear, holding tightly to Broots' arm. The tech stood unmoving, a puzzled look etched on his face. Never wavering his trained eye from the odd pair, Sydney approached them slowly. Though there was caution in his steps, he moved without hesitation. Carefully, the Belgium man took the hand that held Broots' arm in his own and placing himself nearer the air vent, gently helped the empath out.

Through the entire time it took to go from the small hole in the wall to the floor, Angelo moved with difficulty and Sydney noticed, with alarm, that his every move was punctuated by gasps and winces. Angelo was noticeably in pain. He ran his eyes down the man's body, looking for the source of such agony, but found nothing. Then, his gaze fell upon the empath's face and the psychiatrist recognized in Angelo clear signs of posttraumatic shock. Most would have dismissed this as the empath's normal behavior, but Sydney knew better. The glazed look, the chilled skin and dilated pupils... Something was wrong.

Confused and worried, he turned to Broots, whose attention had remained on Angelo the whole time. Placing light fingertips to the bald man's shoulder, Sydney waited for Broots to face him before urging for answers. After listening to the whole story, including Broots' well-known deviations and Angelo's strange speech, Sydney found himself frowning, even more worried than before.

" Broots, I think Angelo is sinking deeply into whoever he is channeling right now. I just never saw him do this with anyone other than Jarod. Was there anything to indicate that it was Jarod who he had been referring about?" Broots shock his head in the negative, then exposed his theory that there might have been more than one person. Lightly shaking his head, Sydney murmured under his breath. " I just hope he's okay, wherever he is ..."

Sigh.

Softening his voice to a gentler tone, Sydney spoke to the troubled man, in the same manner one would with a small child. In a way, that was exactly what Angelo was. An innocent, tormented child, trapped within his own mind. Damn Raines for everything he had ever done... Before rage could consume him, the Belgium breathed in deeply. Someone needed help and he wouldn't stand on the sidelines. Not this time...

" Angelo? C'mon, look at me, Angelo. Tell me what happened. I am here to help you, you know that, right?" Merely trying to connect, Sydney hadn't been expecting an answer. At least not so quickly. But he got one, nonetheless.

" No... No words for it... Hurts... _Tears...Blood... _Make the pain go away... Please, Sydney, please_... Danger! _" The good doctor was surprised by the big changes in the young man's attitude. One moment it had sounded like Angelo himself, interpreting someone else's nightmare and the next he sounded like he was this person. His voice, his posture, it all changed within seconds, like a schizophrenic playing different personalities.

" Bad men, danger, bad men, bad, bad..." All of a sudden, Angelo was himself again, as if he had somehow managed to block out the other person's pain. That confused Sydney the most. Because, for as far back as he could remember, Angelo had never done that, no matter what kind of emotion assaulted his mind. Desperation grew within the old man's heart. Urgency like he hadn' t experienced since Catherine's odd parting words during their last session together surged through hid body. He needed answers, damnit!

" Who is hurting, Angelo? Who? Tell me, I can't do anything if you don't tell me!" Sydney grew persistent as his emotions got the better of him, decomposing his carefully controlled posture. " Is it Jarod? Who, Angelo, who?" He was already expecting the worst. The empath had already feared for the pretender's safety before. But he had been clearer if not more helpful.

" No, not friend. Friend not remember, not yet."

_Thank God!_

Sydney felt relief, if for only a second. It might not have been his protégé, but someone, somewhere was in desperate need of help. Then, the implication of the empath's words sunk in. Something was definitely wrong!

" What is it that Jarod doesn't remember, Angelo?" The frown returned to his forehead. It seemed that the Center always managed to present one more secret, no matter how many had already been uncovered. Was there no end to this madness... No bottom to this abysm?

"The pain, not remember the pain... The bad men take the pain away... Take all away... Not good... Not good..." Angelo shock his head in disapproval, while tears fell freely from his eyes. Suddenly recalling his original question, the old man held Angelo's face in his hands, willing the empath's eyes to focus on his own. It took him a couple of minutes to actually achieve this.

" Who... Is... Hurting, Angelo? Who?"

Like a catatonic victim, who is abruptly startled awake, Angelo started trashing and screaming, his arms swinging in all directions. Rising up, he circled the large room in a frenzy, shredding papers and knocking things over. His actions were an obvious attempt to express himself. Words often failed him and Sydney knew he would eventually calm down. So the psychiatrist tried to patiently wait until it was over.

As sudden as it had began... It stopped.

Angelo, calm but still somewhat troubled, kneeled beside Sydney once more. With his gaze somewhere in the distance, he whispered ever so slowly, sadness evident in both his hunched, defeated posture and in his voice. At first the doctor couldn't quite hear the low whispered words, but as he got closer, understanding finally sunk in. He recognized the poem almost immediately, but the meaning behind those words eluded his comprehension.

" ... forgive, forgive me for believing... "

Then, Angelo bolted. Faster than anyone would ever expect him to, the empath crawled back into his safe heaven, replaced the once fallen crate and quickly disappeared. Only after his swift departure did Sydney notice the DSA, which had been placed on his hands. He sighed, closing his eyes. Sending a silent prayer up above, he prepared himself for what he knew would be the beginning of another journey, he might not see it through. Another lie, another secret...

_They seemed to go on forever..._

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REVIEW, REVIEW! I cannot live on food alone... 


	3. Anticipation

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: people, I fear I am growing desperate... PLEASE review! And while I am here begging, I would really like to thank the few people who did really sent me a little note, just to tell me I am not writing to Casper. So thank you **MissEdythe, imag1ne, Nans, Gemini-M, I'd be lost without you!**

In an effort to give, in order to receive, I am posting two chaps in a row. I know they are short, but two more and thing will star making sense. Or at least, they are supposed to!

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Chapter 3: ANTICIPATION

**PREVIOUSLY...**

_"Only after his swift departure did Sydney notice the DSA which had been placed on his hands. He sighed, closing his eyes. Sending a silent prayer up above, he prepared himself for what he knew would be the beginning of another journey, he might not see it through. Another lie, another secret..._

_They seemed to go on forever..."_

**NOW...**

There was a moment of silence between the two men, as they remained sitting on the floor, refusing to meet each other's eyes. Sydney and Broots hadn't known each other for very long. Their joining had been under the worst of circumstances. They were supposed to work together, hunting another man. An innocent man. a son, of sorts, and a stranger. In the endless times they had spent looking for clues to the pretender's location, on the thousand occasions they had, accidentally or not so much, stumbled upon the causalities of the Center, the doctor and the tech had bonded. A friendship had been forged and they had both learned to trust that. But the years had been long and the road they traveled through seemed to have been permanently tainted with blood and lies...

And they were tired. Exhausted from fighting and never seeing this war come any nearer to an end...

Just as the doctor had, Broots understood the implication of Angelo's words and actions. DSA's were the true witnesses of the Center's evil and wrong doings. They hid secrets most men wouldn't have the courage to face and that most people couldn't even imagine it being possible... So they were weary of what still lay ahead.

But to hold in your hands the answers and not feel the urge to look, to understand, is like jumping out of a plane and refusing to open the parachute. To hear a cry for help, a plea seeking salvation... They couldn't ignore it! They had stood complacent too many times before. Staring intensively at his own reflection on the disc's surface, Sydney had considered walking away. Eyes closed, the memory of his little girl burning on his lids, Broots almost took the easy way out...

In the end, however, they both succumbed to the inevitable. If Angelo had given them the recording, it meant that, whatever it held, had to be important... Had to be known. Lives could be at stake! And what kind of men would they be to just turn a blind eye? What kind of father? What kind of friend? NO, they had to see this through!

"Broots, get the Halliburton case Miss Parker keeps here." Rising to his feet, Sydney heard the tech scrambling away and then coming back. Before he had been completely up, the Belgium glanced at the camera, hanging in the corner, where two gray walls met. Having learned long ago that paranoia kept you alive, Syd worried about the Center's ever-watchful eyes. But he needn't have bothered. The ever blinking red light was, surprisingly, absent. Silently thanking Angelo, who surely had had a hand in that, Sydney moved towards the table Broots had placed the DSA player on.

The tech, who had followed the psychiatrist gaze, came to the same conclusion. Looking at Sydney, he caught his friend's eyes and swallowed hard, willing his breakfast to continue where it belonged. At least he hadn' t had lunch yet..

" I suggest we watch the DSA before they realize the camera's not working anymore. Then we search Miss Parker. She'll want to see this, too. " Sydney's voice seemed to have toned down a bit, almost in a conspiratory whisper. They both stepped closer to the silver case. After a moment's hesitation, the old man pushed the disk in to the slot and pressed play.

_God helps us all..._

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REVIEW, REVIEW or I'll be like a spoiled brat and won't uptade anymore! 


	4. Nightmares

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

NOW, I will hold my threat true... SO REVIEW!

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Chapter 4: _NIGHTMARES_

Jarod's point of view:

_Darkness was complete..._

There was no shadows, no strays of light. The outline of the walls, if there were any and which could usually be seen, were none existent. No floor, not even cold concrete at his feet. No ceiling, no furniture, no up or down. Jarod seemed to be floating into nothingness... It was impossible to distinguish this from any other place in the world. This was a blind man's vision.

_The silence was depthening_...

There was no white noise in the distance, no sound hanging in the air, no shallow breaths, nor any ringing in his ear. No one spoke, nothing moved. The absolute absence of any kind of vibration left the room stale and void. Jarod couldn't hear his own breathing, his own heartbeat. Even his memory seemed to be on mute.

Jarod had never known this kind of silent blackness...

The pain, however, was there. Excruciating and deep, tearing soundlessly into his flesh, burning helplessly through his skin, echoing loudly inside his brain. He tried to scream, to find release, but was unable to make the faintest of grunts. The air refused to leave his lungs, chocking him. He couldn't cough, couldn't breathe.

Jarod had never known this kind of absolute despair...

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Rushing into wakefulness, his senses were cruelly assaulted from every direction. Suddenly, the pain had faded, the room taking form, his ears pooping with released pressure. Breathing erratically, Jarod found it difficult to bring in fresh air into his lungs. The terrible burning sensation from before continued to torture him! His body, covered by a thin layer of sweat, shook uncontrollably with bone chilling cold. His cheeks had tear streak paths over it's flushed skin. Dark brown hair was matted down on his forehead.

His eyes...

So haunted...

So scared...

Jarod has had his share of nightmares, both while asleep and awake. He had, long ago, grown used to pain, to torture. He had starved, been frozen to death, literally, had his heart stopped more than once. He had, however, always managed to retain some sort of control over his mind, a place they would never be able to reach him. That is how he had survived those long years, trapped in the Center. Nothing, though, had ever been this terrifying... Everything completely out of his control.

He could still feel his skin, burned, his back, aching and his mind in total desperation...

No nightmare had ever been this real...

Jarod laid back on the bed, not caring about the wet sheets as they stuck on his back. Slowly regaining the ability to breathe normally, he closed his eyes. Unlike other nights, when he continued to be plagued by the lingering images of the dream, which had woken him up, Jarod saw nothing... Maybe, because there was nothing to see. Either way, that unsettled him even more.

Shuddering, he tried to will his body to relax, but even as he reassured himself, that it had been only a bad dream, the pretender dreaded that he could be, in fact, lying to himself.

Some dreams were wishes for the past, for the future...

Some were about our fears...

Some were memories we tried hard not to remember...

Others were...

_Impossible to tell..._

_Oh God, which one?_

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Yes, I am partial to drama. But I warned everyone who payed enough attention to the header of this story. Like always... Happy ending! Or not... That depends on how happy am I... HINT... **So review!** _


	5. Denial

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: I am sorry to have taken this long to post more, considering the chap was pratically ready for a couple of days, but I just went through a down period... I am all better now. I would like to thank the few who reviewed the last chapter.

**imag1ne:** thank you for the tip on the typos. Don't know how I missed them, I have already edited all four posted chapters to fix them. Please keep reading... I have great things in store...

**Gemini-M:** thank you for reviewing. I am glad you are liking it. Just hope you'll stick atound long enough for this to start making sense. Give me until chap 6 and I promise some answers.

**julie and ann**: keep reading and I'll keep writing...

**leochick:** glad it is interesting, even though it's confusing. Thank you for the review, keep reading...

**MissEdythe**: I won't keep up the suspence for long. Truth is I need to lay some ground before showing all my caards. Pay attention, cause I'm leaving clues. Can you guess what comes next?

Also, **MARLEN**, you've e-mailed me with your review, and I forgot to put your name on last uptade. I just forgot to check, but I would like to let you know how much I apreciate your input. KEEP REVIEWING!

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Chapter 5: _DENIAL_

Miss Parker's point of view:

The rooms and offices in the Center, whether they stood tall in the Tower or hid low in SL-26, shared one thing, which made it impossible to distinguish them completely... The menacing cold which permeated the concrete walls and clung to the shadows, and that no fluoresce lights could extinguish. Miss Parker's office was no exception. The gray, black and white standard decor seemed to have drained the entire room of any personality. Even the few photographs scattered around were unable to over shine the cold...

And the woman sitting behind the glass desk made no effort to change that. Impersonal was safe, cold was secure. Anything else was a sign of weakness, more ammunition that could be used against you and would eventually lead to your demise. After all, nothing escaped the Devil's red blinking eyes. All seeing, unforgiving eyes...

_Feeling was dangerous..._

Parker sighed, throwing the pen she had been holding on top of the thick glass and leaned back against the black leather chair. When her head touched the soft fabric, she allowed heavy eyelids to close. With every day that dawned, Parker found herself a bit more tired, a little sadder and so much more jaded. The ice fortress she had once built around her for protection, grew beyond control. It's freezing walls becoming thicker and colder with each passing moment.

_Like chilling bars holding her in..._

Instead of shielding her from harm, the mighty construction held her prisoner. A victim of her own creation, incapable of fighting for freedom and lacking the strength to even try. Parker had become trapped within the very darkness she had been trying to escape.

A kind of static arose within her mind... Thousands of simultaneous whispers seemed to be disputing her attention. Pain exploded in her head, as their pleas grew in volume, worsening the headache, which had already been plaguing her morning. Their insistence broke her resolution to ignore them. So, filled with defeat and contempt, Parker, still with her eyes closed, asked them, with a whispered yell, what the hell they wanted! As if in answer to her annoyed request, they all fell into brief silence. Next, they spoke in unison, loudly like a boom box in her inner ear, a single word...

_Lie..._

Immediately thereafter, Parker's brow wrinkled into a frown, confusion clearly etched on her face. The message had been rather vague and considering her workplace, she found it hard, if not nearly impossible, to relate it to anything specific. After all, the very foundation of her life had been built in lies. She waited for the voices to manifest themselves once more, hoping they would elaborate, but they had apparently decided to remain quiet. What was the use of having this gift if all it did was confuse her already troubled life? Still, no answer...

Parker sighed again, reluctantly opening her eyes. The first thing on her field of vision, however, had her wishing they had remained closed. There, to her right, on the corner, where wall met ceiling, the ever-watching lenses stared back at her. The constant red dot like a warning and a threat at the same time. If the woman had been controlled by impulse rather than reason, she would have put a bullet right through the offending camera.

Such as it was, the gray mechanism remained intact...

Snorting in a very unladylike manner, Parker leaned forward and with both hands on the leather arms, pushed the chair back, standing up with a grace most dancers would envy. This natural poise the woman seemed to possess never failed to capture the attention of anyone brave enough, or stupid enough, to stare. Her semi-transparent blue eyes continued glaring intently at the surveillance device, as she slowly walked closer. It was as if she had been challenging the inanimate object to follow her movements, betraying the sweeper who stood, somewhere, watching the video feed.

Parker was both surprised and a bit disappointed when the camera failed to turn her way. But all that quickly vanished when she noticed the red light fade out. It's sudden absence brought a sense of unease to the huntress. Adrenaline surged through her veins as her mind went into overdrive, considering all possibilities. Two seconds passed.

Then a loud noise echoed through the hollow room as the ventilation crate was carelessly thrown to the floor. Expecting Angelo to pop out of the hole, as he had been known to do, Parker waited with barely contained impatience. Even refusing to admit it, she couldn't deny that the empath only came to her with important, if not sometimes dangerous, reasons. Seconds ticked by, the silence loaded with anticipation, but no one emerged from the vents.

Impatience dissolved into worry. Casting a glance in the camera's direction, to reassure herself of it's continued inactivity, Parker placed her right hand on the holster of her 9mm, which was attached to her back, and brought her trustworthy gun to her side, ready to be used. Moving stealthily, she advanced slowly, her heels on the floor like a tigress through the savanna. Devoid of any sound...

When she stood just a few feet away from the steel tunnels, Parker leaned forward, her fingers tightening around thr gun's holder, and glanced inside. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and she silently scolded herself for letting herself get so bent out of shape over something like that. Squinting to look inside, she held her breath until it became obvious that the vents were empty.

No one, nothing...

Puzzled and somewhat annoyed, the huntress put her gun away and prepared to turn around and call security to place the crate back where it belonged, when the voices within her mind started producing static once again. She couldn't seem to understand what exactly they were saying, so she closed her eyes and focused them, trying to make sense of their murmuring, just like Sydney had taught her.

Parker had been ready to give up, thoughts of whiskey and oblivion already forming in her mind, when the woman felt her knees weaken and buckle. In a flash, her eyes flew open, her bare skin hitting the ground. Sweeping the room with eyes wide in surprise, she swallowed hard and attempted to recollect herself.

_No longer in her office, the huntress recognized the large room as a simlab, an open space monitored by three different cameras and devoid of any furniture, except a small table and a single chair. That was the room where simulations where performed and duly recorded. Wondering how she had gotten there in the first place, Parker was startled by a girl's giggle coming from somewhere behind her._

_Before she had the time to consider it any further, a fourteen-year-old boy dressed in standard issued Centre clothes and a thirteen-year-old girl wearing Catholic's school uniforms came into view. The young couple walked closely together, their heads leaning towards each other, while conspiratory whispers were exchanged. It only took Parker a second to realize that they were completely unaware of her presence. Heading to the ventilation system, Parker saw them remove, in an amazingly coordinated effort, the vent crate and with a passing glance around them, she saw the boy follow the girl inside. Opening, then closing her mouth, she tried articulating words to stop the children from leaving. _

_No sound came out of her lips..._

_However, the Center's heiress had been rendered speechless, not by their actions, but by their faces. Younger, yet familiar faces, nonetheless..._

_Hers..._

_And Jarod's... _

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Next: what is on that DSA?

Attention to the details... Promise to have more before the end of the week. If I get reviews that is!

Now, since asking is not working... Imagine me, fair skin, wavy brown hair, hazel eyes, on my kness pleading, with my lower lip trembling as tears treaten to escape my eyes...

PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. DSA revealed

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Now, I would like to tell **all readers** that this is really a simple story, I just chose a complicated way to tell it. I am going to reveal small bitsof info until the entire picture becomes clear. To those who can wait no more, this chapter is already putting things into action. There will be MPJR, but Syd and Broots will play a big part in this. They will walk with you this path of discovery. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!

**Rev2004, Gemini-M, Ann, julie:** thank you for reviewing, hope to start making more sense soon...

**Annette:** I admit that letting the reader control the writing is dangerous, but I am an author in the making here and I need reviews to make sure that I am still on track. Besides, what better incentive to posting than a load of reviews? Now, you assumed a lot about this story and I must tell you, you ASSumed wrong... This is a, somewhat, original story. Nothing against the plot you described ( lots of drama, which I love ), but I am aiming for something a little different. Repressed angerand memories... and lies ( this is the Center after all)... No wonder she's upset! HOPE you will continue reading this and I also HOPE to surprise you at the end. Thank you for the review!

**NYT**: I am glad to have hit deep... Now, I am sorry for delayed uptades. I understand you, sometimes having to go back to remember where the story let off before is a bit discoraging. I will try my best to post more quickly. Unfortunately, I am going to travel the last two weeks of July and won't be able to uptade. But I promise to post before I leave and two chaps when I get back. Hnag in there!

**MissEdythe**: I am really glad you like my writing. Also, it fills me with satisfaction and joy to know people read this and are able to see the images I see in my overworked brain. Never hesitate to point me my mistakes, I apreciate all constructive reviews... As always, I blush at your words thank you>!

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Chapter 6: DSA REVEALED

_PREVIOUSLY:_

"_They both stepped closer to the silver case. After a moment's hesitation, the old man pushed the disk in to the slot and pressed play.."_

NOW:

When the small square screen flicked to life, a low moan escaped the audio feed. It took both Sydney and Broots a few seconds to notice the quivering girl hunched on the corner of the bare, non-descript room, much like every single cell on SL-22.

She was young, like most Center victims seem to be, a beautiful teenager with straight dark hair. Though the grayish recording made it impossible to distinguish its exact color. The long strands half covered her face, casting black shadows upon her fair skin. The lights on the anonymous location also left a lot to be desired, obscuring most of her frame, which seemed to willingly shrink into the darkness.

The expensive looking party dress she wore was old fashioned and it appeared to be covered with dust. It's sleeveless top hug the girl's chest closely and made the girl's heavy breathing all the more evident. And, right there, on her right arm, a bruise could be seen… A handprint. It's skirt, not long enough to hides skinned knees dark with dried blood, flared around her long legs.

Hugging herself, in what appeared to be an effort to warm up, the girl turned to face the wall to her left, her shoulders, the only indication she was crying, shaking as silent sobs escaped her lips. No sound could be heard from the recording.

Sydney felt sorry for this girl and the pain, both within and without, which emanated from her. But his rational mind refused his heart's request to grieve for someone he had never met and which was, in all likelihood, already gone. No more tears to mourn those lost, not enough strength to get mad…

Not anymore…

Sigh…

Outraged and confused, Broots tried to detach himself, like he'd seen Miss Parker do so many times. He tried hard not to see Debbie, his beloved daughter, sitting on that corner, weeping and helplessly alone. No, that was someone else's little girl. Then he remembered Angelo's words and a frown appeared on his brow. What were they supposed to see? To learn? The empathy never did anything without a meaning. So he tried again to see the teen's features, but to no avail. The tech sighed.

" Do you recognize her, Syd?" Broots' voice showed both anger and resignation. He too had seen far too much to be really surprised, though not enough to dismissed it completely.

"I don't know, Broots. She could be anyone. Look at that date. It's been nearly twenty years. We may never know jus…" the doctor trailed off, suddenly lost in his own thoughts. Broots watched, confused, as Sydney uncrossed his arms and leaned forward to observe the screen more closely. A frown graced his already wrinkled face, as the psychiatrist continued watching, transfixed.

" No… Couldn't be…" If Broots hadn't been right next to the Belgium man, he would've have missed the incredulous whisper. Repositioning himself, the balding and intrigued man came to stand on the side of the Halliburton case. Gazing inventively at the aging man, Broots tried to read him. However, it turned out to be harder than understanding Angelo's fragmented speech. There was a barely contained fury and an incredibly profound sadness coexisting within Sydney.

Being unable to get through to his friend, Broots turned his upper body and glanced at the screen once more, willing his eyes to see what had entranced Sydney so deeply. Nothing… The girl's face remained hidden. The walls were completely bare. No door, no window, no vent could be seen from the camera's capturing angle. Placing a hand on Sydney's shoulder, he applied a bit of pressure, finally catching the man's attention.

"What is it? What do you see, Syd?" Though a part of him was frightened to know, Broots found himself unable to ignore it. They were past the point of return. He just wished the Center's well of secrets turned out to have a bottom after all.

" It's, well, I don't want to believe it, but who else could it be?" Before the tech could utter a response, Sydney continued. " Broots, I think that's Miss Parker…" The computer genius had never heard the psychiatrist use that tone of voice before. It seemed like the weight of the world had finally proven to be much more that he could bare. Then his words registered in the tech's mind. Miss Parker?

Could it really be her… His strong, powerful looking boss, crying in a heap… Completely defenseless? Broots couldn't bring himself to believed it. Taking a step forward, he mirrored Sydney's earlier actions and gazed at the screen more closely. But, no matter how hard he tried, the Center employee couldn't recognize that girl as Parker.

"How can you know for s… sure? You c… can't see h… her face and…" the stutter which had been, until that moment, repressed, resurfaced strongly. He was shaking his head, attempting to clear his clouded thoughts. Syd had been mistaken… right?

"It's her, Broots. I know you don't want to believe it, trust me, I don't either, but it's her… I'm sure of that… God… I wish I wasn't, but I am." Sydney's voice trembled and unconsciously, the man closed his eyes. When he finally found strength within himself to reopen his lids, Sydney was met by questioning blue orbs gazing his way. How could he be sure?

"The bracelet she has on her wrist… Jarod made it for Miss Parker's 15th birthday. She never took it off." Seeing it for himself, Broots nodded, an astonished look still etched on his face.

The explanation turned out to be unnecessary though. Merely a few seconds later, the two men heard the rustling of fabric against fabric. Turning back to the screen, they watched as the teen moved. Gingerly, almost as if her legs were refusing to work, she rose from the ground, her face still hidden by the long strands of dark hair. Leaning against the wall for obviously needed support, Broots and Sydney watched, horrified, as her face finally came into view.

Her eyes were puffy, indicating she had been crying a lot longer than they had been watching her. Tear streak paths ran down her cheeks, glistening in the pour fluorescent light. She had a smear that looked a lot like blood, on her left cheek. It almost looked like the imprint of a hand… The truth was that the girl the men saw on the small square screen bore almost no resemblance to the woman they had been working with for the past five years. She looked weak, resigned and worst of all… Broken.

Sydney heard his companion gasp, but didn't move, his attention completely focused on the playing DSA. Unable and unwilling to turn away, he watched as the girl changed, transformed in front of his very eyes. He saw her back straighten, her shoulders squared and tense; her eyes darken, freezing like a river on winter; her fists clench, taking the defensive stance he had come to know so well. The aging man watched, brokenhearted, as the sweet and fragile girl, he had once felt so protective of, was buried alive.

With sadness gripping his already battered soul, Sydney was witness to the birth of Miss Parker, the Ice Queen many would come to respect and fear. She was borne, not from aches, for the fire had already been extinguished, but from the chilling cold of a cell, in the bowels of the Center.

_One second was all it took…_

The screen faded to black…

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REVIEW, again I beg... And no, I don't feel bad for doing so... 


	7. What now?

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: Okay, this is shorter than I had wanted it to be, but if I made it any longer, I would have to brake it in half ( no time to finish it before I head off on vacation) and that would be bad in the long run, trust me. So, forgive me. As previously stated, I promise big chapter and lots of answers for my next uptade. Have pacience and please don't forget to review.

**Eden:** you seem to like MP as much as I do. Thank you for the compliment! Personally I had been wondering about the reason MP changed so much for a while now. This is just one of the many scenarios. Don't worry, lots of MP soon!

**Gemini-M**: thank you, I do plan on having a blast. It is always good to receive reviews, good or bad, from fellow writers. Hope you keep enjoying this.

**Kathea:** Really glad you gave my little, a bit confusing at times,tale another chance. I'll work hardnot to disappoint you.I could answer your question now, but what would be the fun on that? Keep reading...

Also thanksto leochick, Sammie and Rev2004 for taking the time to review...

Again I must apologise **for Marlen** for forgetting to name her. Marlen, your review is greatly apreciated and I do not do this on purpose. Sorry the chap is short again...

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Chapter 7: WHAT NOW?

Then the screen faded to black… 

Without the faint sound of the player humming, the room was cast into a uneasy silence, which seemed to weight upon both men, as they stood, completely still, staring at the blank screen. After all the secrets they had uncovered they shouldn't have been as dumbfounded as they were. But, seeing Miss Parker like that, the strongest woman they knew, so frail and broken, caused anger and sadness to invade them both. Sydney and Broots had always felt protective of her and that feeling only grew with the discovery of the DSA's content.

And what meager contents, after all. The disc provided little, if no information on what had really transpired on that room. They had watched her cry, yet knew nothing of what had caused such tears. They had seen blood on her cheeks, a handprint, but whose it was remained a mystery. There was no before and no after to that DSA and both men found themselves wondering. It seemed they had ended up with more questions than answers.

Turning to Sydney, a frown still on his brow, Broots opened his mouth to speak. However, no words came. He felt foolish and found himself sighing for what seemed like the tenth time that morning. He didn't know what to ask, what to do. The only thing he was sure about was that, whatever had happened that day, so many years ago, mattered, somehow. Angelo wouldn't have given them the DSA, otherwise.

Curiosity winning over the anger momentarily, Sydney reached for the Halliburton case and withdrew the DSA from the slot. Placing the disc on the inner pocket of his jacket, he closed the player and glanced at the camera. As if guessing his intentions, the surveillance device came back on, the red light like an announcement. Danger still lurked in the shadows.

Facing Broots, who had watched his every move, Sydney plastered a calm and emotionless mask. Casually, as if they had been conversing about the weather not two seconds before, the psychiatrist placed both hands behind his back.

" I am going to see Miss Parker now. Maybe she has heard from Jarod. It has been some time since he called me and I am somewhat worried. Would you like to accompany me there, Broots?" Sydney's voice was calm, detached, with just a hint of worry lingering in his tone. His eyes, however, spoke a different story. They urged the tech to play along and Broots found himself nodding without a second thought. He was as eager to see his boss.

Together they exited the room. Without speaking or looking back, they both wondered about Parker and hoped that they wouldn't be opening a can of worms she'd be unable to control later on. How much more blows could her fortress take, before it crumbled at her feet?

Sydney sent a silent prayer up above as he prepared to open the door to her office.

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REVIEW... 


	8. Seeking answers

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: I would like to say to all those pretender fans who have been reading this and wondering, for the past three weeks, where the h$ I've been... I am back! And no, Ihaven't a) DIED or b)GIVEN UP. I was just up to my ears in things to do. I will be posting regularly now... To make an exeption I won't do especific shout outs this time, but I would like to thank all reviewers, nonetheless. THANK YOU ( **leochick, Alexandra, MissEdythe, Teddy78, Annette, sammie, Gemini-M, dolphin18paradise**) !

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Chapter 8: SEEKING ANSWERS

When the doors to Miss Parker's office swung open, light flooded the dimly lit room. The shadows, which clung to every corner and every single piece of furniture there, stopped Sydney dead on his tracks. Broots, who too had been transfixed by the gloominess of the room, didn't see his friend halt and practically ran the poor man over. In an awkward moment, both men struggled to regain their lost balance. Their clumsy moves, temporarily, the only source of sound.

After the darkness, the silence was what assaulted them next. Stale air hung soundlessly, unmoving, deeply oppressing… And Sydney noticed, astound, that the four walls had, somehow, managed to capture time and hold it still. He knew the very impossibility of that thought, yet, gazing at that office, he believed it true. Time had stopped…

Taking a small, cautious step forward, the psychiatrist entered the room completely. Using his left hand, he silenced Broots' impending question, before the tech had the opportunity to even form the words. Sydney knew him that well. The old man bent his head to the side, eyes unfocused, trying to capture the faintest sound… Nothing.

" Miss Parker?" his question, her name, echoed throughout the room. However, no answer echoed back. Worry growing within his chest; Sydney reached for the light switch. But, before his fingers could chase the darkness away, a whisper stopped him short.

" Don't…" nothing else was spoken.

Walking forward once more, the aging man aimed his steps in the direction he believed the low, barely recognizable voice had come from. Though darkness was far from complete, Sydney could barely see his own raised fingers. So, dragging his feet and using both hands as a shield between his body and any potentially sharp furniture along his way, he walked a blind man's path. That thought threw him back in time, a few years back, when his eyes had temporarily forsaken him. The blindness, a welcomed consequence to the explosion, his one act of rebellion after so many years of silent obedience.

_Thump…_

His right foot caught on the crate, which lay carelessly on the ground. Metal clinging against the leather of his shoes sent a small bout of pain up through his leg, which he barely registered in. Sidestepping the obstacle, he continued his search for Miss Parker and answers. His fierce determination blocking out any other thoughts. He called her name once more.

" Oh, sure is dark in here. Can… Can you see her, Syd?" Sydney had all but forgotten about Broots, when his tentative question reached the psychiatrist's ears. The tech had chosen to remain by the door and Sydney could see him clearly against the light coming from the hallway. Not having anything to say and still attentively seeking any sign of life within those walls, he chose to say nothing at all.

" Miss Parker? Please, answer me, Parker. Is something wrong?" worry slowly built into fear as silence continued.

" When is anything right at the Centre, Sydney…?" Her voice was heavily laces with bitterness, sarcasm dripping from every word spoken. Yet, something strange caught Sydney's attention. Something different about her voice. Something missing. What had started since her return from Carthis had seemingly spread, like a virus, taking over completely. The old man wondered if he should be relieved by her reply or worried by her new attitude.

_Something was wrong…_

And, having watched that damned DSA not ten minutes before, he couldn't help but feel dread within him. He just prayed he wasn't too late already. Oh, God…

" I'm tired, Syd… I'm tired of all of this…" Sigh and some undistinguished noise followed the void left by her defeated confession. Her voice quivered and Sydney could her tears threatening to overcome her. "I' don't think I can do this anymore… It's just so hard. It shouldn't be this hard, right, Syd? It shouldn't…" She sounded so distant, almost unreal. And when he heard her sigh once more, he stopped moving.

Though he was caught by surprise by her tone, what really astounded him were her words. She couldn't possibly mean… He didn't dare consider that absurd thought. But, he realized he couldn't deny it altogether. He had heard Catherine Parker's desperate, but defeated last words before her death. And though she hadn't in fact died then, her agreement with Raines had been nothing short of suicide.

_No, not again…_

" Broots, hit the lights!" the old man lacked his usual confidence and calmness. The missing trademark, which could drive Miss Parker insane with anger at times, left only fear in his voice. Hearing the urgency in his friend's words left no room for discussion as Broots reached for the switch and shed light into the room.

_The sudden brightness blinded them all momentarily…_

Broots stood stoically by the door, right hand above his eyes, left hand still suspended in the air, next to the light switch. Sydney, in the middle of the room, had his arms at his side, eyes squinting through the unexpected brightness. And Miss Parker, on her knees, feet to her side, sat staring straight ahead, the hole on the ventilation shaft like a magnet to her eyes. One small tear had escaped her control, leaving a path on her right cheek, as it traveled downwards, seeking the ground, its ultimate destination.

Sydney, finally having seen the woman on the floor, approached her from behind, the frown still on his brow, where it seemed to have taken permanent residence. Worry was permanently etched upon his features. He wanted to extend his arm and touch her shoulder, but he forced himself to hold back, retreating the hand, which had been only centimeters away from her silk clothed skin. Moving to the side, he came closer, getting the first real glimpse of Miss Parker since the darkness had been chased away.

Her face, with tear-tainted skin, was solemn, without emotion. Her lips did not quiver and did not smile. Strangely, there seemed to lack color to her cheeks. It seemed that, even though she was physically there, her presence was absent somehow. Her eyes, however, spoke a different story. They were loaded with infinite sadness and hid unsure understanding. Sydney could not read them, not that he ever could, but his inability to comprehend the situation innerved him to no end.

Dropping to his knees, the old man, feeling bold, caught Miss Parker's face between his wrinkled hands. Searching her eyes with his questioning gaze, Sydney attempted to call her name once more. No answer. He continued trying to somehow connect to Parker, desperately seeking a way to reach her. His persistence was met by persistent failure.

Sigh…

Letting his arms drop down, he sadly noted her still unwavering gaze. Needing to do more than just wait for something to happen, Sydney rose from the ground, his aching back protesting against the prolonged position it had been subjected to. Glancing around the room he noted the closed blinds and saw the crate on the floor. Aside from those, nothing seemed to be amiss on the room. Yet…

Then he took notice of the security camera, resting where it had always been, seemingly unchanged. The absence of the red light to him a moment to notice. He thought about Angelo and presumed it had been, somehow, his doing. What was going on? What could he be trying to say, to reveal? Sydney drew a blank.

How he yearned to find out…

The psychiatrist didn't know how long it was, how much time had transpired since his and Broots' entrance, before Parker spoke again. She questioned his presence as if she hadn't registered it until that moment. Rising to her feet as if she hadn't been crumpled on the floor. The tear streak on her cheek remained untouched, as if unacknowledged. Relief, however, prevented him from wondering too hard about the sudden shift.

Sydney rushed to her side and Parker took a step back, surprised by his uncharacteristic eagerness. He looked deeply in her azure orbs and inquired about what had happened for him to find her on the floor, completely unresponsive. She could have been avoiding it, she might not even remember it, either way, Miss Parker provided no answers.

Deciding to ignore, if only for the moment, the huntress' strange behavior not two seconds before and her reluctance to speak about it, Sydney relayed all that had taken place on the lab, including what Broots, who had by now entered the room, but still stood by the door, had told him about Angelo's strange articulate speech. Parker listened without interrupting once, which was on itself peculiar and asked to see the DSA as soon as Sydney finished his tale.

Hesitating, Sydney took a moment to analyze her, from head to toe. He remained certain that his assertion about her had been correct. However, he failed to pinpoint the exact changes, which had occurred. Something was different, he just didn't know what. A raised eyebrow and a crude remark about getting old by the millisecond brought Sydney out of his reverie. The glimpse of the old Miss Parker brought a small smile to his lips as he removed the disc from his inner pocket and placed it on the palm of her impatient hand. Still, worry lingered.

She accepted the glinting object without word. Her eyes remained locked in the distance, as her slender fingers curled around it. There was absolutely nothing to be read in her expression. She was neither angry, nor calm… There was just, nothing. And that unsettled Sydney more than any emotion she might have displayed.

When, again, she failed to speak or move, the old man cast a glance in Broots direction and exchanging a concerned glance with the speechless tech, considered shaking the woman for answers. Her silence and indifference were driving him to the edge of his sanity. Fortunately, he managed some self-restraint, repeating to himself, like a mantra, the words he had drilled into Jarod since early age. Over and over again…

_Those who seek to hard, lack the patience to learn the truth that lies underneath the skin…_

Yes, indeed…

" I hope you can shed some light into this DSA. Angelo seemed adamant on us seeing it." Sydney resumed his customary position, crossing his arms on top of his chest, a pensive look replacing the worried frown on his face. He had far from forgotten his questions and he wasn't about to let what had just happened slip by, but he had learned that, when dealing with Parker, caution and patience were essential virtues. And, after all, he was nothing if not a patient man.

Sydney could wait…

Awhile, at least…

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Now things will really start to unravel. Hope it is up to everyone's expectations. Remember to review! And to those who have patiently waited for a sequelto my first story " Smile before this is over" ... You won't have to wait much longer. 

REVIEW!


	9. Seeking Understanding

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: I feel like I should apologize for taking so long to update, but I have good reason. My computer and me had a falling out and he got mad at me and refused to log in on So I felt uninspired to write more. Don't worry though, I been revisited by the muse and unless my computer decides to rebel again, I'll keep posting.

Now, for those who still read this little piece of mine, THANK YOU for the reviews and the patience. I am posting these two chapters together, because it just felt wrong to post them apart. Hope you like chap 10, cause it is one of my "own" favorite moments.

Special thanks to those who took the time to leave me a little note: Gemini-M, leochick, Sammie, Eden, MissEdythe, youte, driel, Teddy78...

NOW, enjoy and don't forget... REVIEWS!

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Chapter 9: SEEKING UNDERSTANDING

_Sydney could wait…_

Awhile, at least… 

Parker, on the other hand, could not.

Steps filled with determination and grace, the huntress went behind her desk, withdrawing a hidden Halliburton case from the shadows. Placing the silver case on the glass top of her desk, she opened the latch and slipped the disc inside. Everything had been done so swiftly, that Sydney and Broots were barely able to register her movements before she pressed _play._

Again, the psychiatrist and the tech watched the scene play out. They were, however, much more interested in the live version of Miss Parker than her younger counterpart. Because, it was the huntress, not the girl, who held all the answers. Or so they thought…

The frown and intrigued look of her pale grey eyes as she recognized herself on the grainy, black and white recording, was enough to shed doubt on both men. Maybe she didn't remember. Or worse, maybe she did. Sydney was unable to tell.

When the screen faded to black, Parker turned towards them, finally focusing her attention on Sydney and Broots. She asked, in a forceful tone, what had been Angelo's exact words. Seemingly transformed back into the Ice Queen so many knew and feared, they noticed the ever-constant scowl, as it reclaimed her features. Nervously, the tech recited, to the best of his abilities, the empath's bizarre speech. He told her about his suspicion that Angelo had been channeling two different people and watched as Parker nodded, clinging to his every word.

The psychiatrist studied her, trying to decipher the mysterious woman before him. Proud of her strength and concerned for her sanity, he yearned to understand the different facets she had within her. There was so much more than met the eye. So much hidden from everyone's casual glances and protected from anyone's careful scrutiny.

Patiently, both men waited for Parker's delayed reaction. For an outburst of anger or another wall crumbling as the little faith she still possessed in her life faded away with another cruel revelation. Nothing. She remained impartial. Her face unreadable as she asked them to leave her be. When they both failed to move, still staring at her, like a specimen under the microscope, the Ice Queen came to the surface. Turning on her heels, she faced them, hands on her waist and eyes burning with unbearable cold.

" Broots, you don't get paid to stand around all day doing nothing. Find Jarod!" Parker paid little attention to the tech as he scurried away, his fear of her momentarily greater than his present concern for a friend. Her eyes were burning holes in Sydney, instead.

" Don't you have some lab rat who is in great need of psychiatric observation, doctor Frankenstein?" Her words to Broots had been spoken with authority, demanding to be obeyed. But the way she spoke to Sydney, left the man feeling hurt and even more worried. There was malice and distrust dripping from her every word, as she crossed her arms, like a protective shield around her heart.

The little doubt he had of her not remembering that day on the DSA soon turned to dust. She remembered, all right. Her whole attitude was like warning signals on a rocky road. And Sydney refused to let it go so easily. Taking a step forward, he reached his right hand and tried placing it on her shoulder… But, she moved away, turned her back to the hurt psychiatrist and repeated her demand. Her voice still unwavering, her back straight.

" Parker, please… I know there is something going on. And I can tell you remembered what you saw on that DSA. I'm worried about you. Please… Please, Parker, let me help you." The sincerity in his voice did little to appease the terrible distrust, which hung between them. Sydney didn't know what to do. He called her name again. Same reaction. _Leave, Syd. _And against his own will, he did, defeated feet dragging him away…

As soon as the door clicked shut behind the old man, Parker's shoulder's hunched, a sigh escaping her lips. Turning towards the camera, she wiped her cheeks dry, making sure not to smudge her waterproof make-up. In a few seconds, all traces of her weakness had been erased. A millisecond after that, the red light of the surveillance device came back to life. Parker pretended not to notice…

She was so good at that…

Sitting behind her desk, she slowly crossed her legs, copiously removed the DSA from the Halliburton case and put both the player and the disc away. Turning back to her unfinished work, she continued her day as if nothing important had happened. Another boring day at the Center with no clues to the whereabouts of their elusive pretender and nowhere to start looking.

With her head still bent down, seemingly reading the useless piece of paper before her, Miss Parker cast a glance in the direction of the vent shaft, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. There were still holes in her memories, which she could not account for, but she remembered enough… Enough to start digging the past and finally find the one answer she had never thought to look for before.

Until now…


	10. Shades of Silence

DISCLAIMER: in the first chapter...

A/N: in chap 9...

As always... REVIEW!

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Chapter 10: DIFFERENT SHADES OF SILENCE

_Silence…_

Calm and absolute silence… 

There was something endlessly peaceful about the silence that night. The darkness clouded by the shinning moon and the gentle cacophony of tiny sounds created a safe like, embracing atmosphere. Filled with chirping crickets and the soft ruffling of leaves, gracefully dancing in the wind, this particular silence was beyond the simple lack of sounds. The night, which had, before, represented the solitary interlude of limbo, seemed transformed into a safe harbor from the clutches of Hell itself.

The woman lay on the bed; her head resting gently against the fluffy pillows, waiting, with eyes wide awake, for the phone to ring. Calmness and anticipation struggled within her for supremacy in a seemingly endless battle. The paradox of their coexistence had caused some in depth reflection earlier in the night, but it bothered her no more. Now, she just waited, thousands of thoughts running wild in her mind, wrecking havoc with Parker's sensitive stomach. The ulcer, however, was the least of her concerns.

_God, ring already!_

For a moment, as she watched the red numbers on her alarm clock change yet again, edging closer and closer to dawn, Parker wondered if he would call at all. The possibility that the phone would remain unresponsive throughout the night sent the sheets flying off her slim frame. Quickly rising to a sitting position she glares at the offending plastic object and willed it to make a sound. It remained quiet.

_Damn it!_

So she got up, paced for about thirty seconds and sat down again, cursing her impatience and the life of the runaway lab rat for not calling today of all days. Any misguided anger, however, soon dissipated when the phone started ringing, desperate for some attention. It was, as one can imagine, highly successful in that endeavor. With the move of barely self-contained fingers, the receiver flew off the hook in mid-second-ring, touching Parker's ivory skin within milliseconds.

" Hello?" as soon as the word had escaped her lips, Parker regretted it. Lowering her head, eyes fluttering close, she cursed her eagerness and lack of self-control.

Sigh…

The silence, which followed on the other end of the phone, was very different than the one Parker had experienced during her wait. It was filled with anticipation and fear. Changes were so easy to plan, but so hard to put into action. Still, it came as no surprise, considering Jarod, as it certainly was the pretender calling so late at night, had gotten used to her curt phone manners. He was probably checking to make sure he hadn't dialed the wrong number.

" Parker? Is… Is that you?" he spoke uncertainly, surely recognizing her timber, even if unfamiliar with such gentle tone of voice. Continuous sleepless nights, which had cruelly followed that most unsettling nightmare, had left the pretender tired, both mentally and physically. Parker's strange greeting turned out to be just another blow to the barely balanced stability of his mind. He wondered if she wasn't playing with his sanity.

Either way…

It didn't matter… 

Exhausted and lonely, he seemed to lack the strength to care. All he needed was some kind of connection. Something real, if only temporary, to cling on to. So, as he had in the past, Jarod had called, seeking solace in her voice, a lighthouse in the darkness of his existence. Even the small ounce of routine he had possessed and so carelessly taken for granted, had been altered since the island, the scrolls and Mr. Parker's unexplained Geronimo. Sigh… He had never thought it possible, but Jarod missed the old days, when things had been so much simpler.

The line had turned blurry somewhere along the years.

_Nothing was black and white anymore…_

Putting all other thoughts out of his mind, Jarod ran his fingers through his hair and spoke her name once more, desperate to hear her speak, even if to curse him. He heard a long sigh through the line and tried imagining her face, either in indifference or in insecurity. He was unable to decide which. Still no reply…

For some reason he couldn't consciously explain, Jarod felt the possibility of change in the air. Change like he had so desired in the past. But now, faced with the decision, the pretender found himself insecure and lacking in courage to see it through. His heart had been shattered so many times before, that he rationally refused to believe things could be different after all. Not after Carthis and her, pulling away once again.

Parker, still with eyelids closed, laid back on the soft cushion of her cream colored comforter, receiver clutched tightly against her ear. She searched for words to express the things she longed to say, but her vernacular turned out to lack such knowledge. A first step needed to be taken and, though hard, the woman knew it had come from her, considering she had been the one who had pulled away…

" This afternoon, oh, a little before five, Raines came into my office, dragging that stupid oxygen tank, which he never seems to oil and threatened my position. Apparently, I wasn't finding you fast enough." A soft laugh escaped her lips like a foreign sound, awaking hope in Jarod's heart. It had been a long time since he heard her laugh a real laugh.

" He got specially mad when I didn't quiver before his presence, as that sorry excuse of a human being I have the misfortune of calling brother." A full-blown giggle escaped to the surface, shaking her chest, and relaxing her tense back. " You… You should have seen the three different shades of red his bald, wrinkled head went through, before he stormed out. I could barely contain my own smile, it was quite hilarious"

Jarod chuckled along side his predator, glad to hear her voice filled with so much carefree joy. However, silence soon elapsed. The stale air stopped moving, seemingly awaiting the next step. If anything, this was another turning point and Parker hoped, as she held her breath in anticipation, that Jarod would take it.

For someone of Jarod's higher intelligence, one would expect immediate understanding, but it took the pretender awhile to really grasp what his huntress had been proposing. At first he was just confused. Though not unwelcome, her sudden change of attitude felt an earthquake to shake his balance. Then suspicion crept in and, in an almost comical scene, he withdrew the cell phone from his ear and glanced at it, eyes narrowed, thousand of scenarios running through his mind. She wouldn't…

Finally, the urge to have, what she so openly seemed to be offering, won over all other reservations his overzealous brain might have had. After all, taking chances was part of the free existence he fought daily to maintain. Why should this be any different? With a small, still a bit unsure, smile playing at the corner of his lips, the pretender replied.

In truth it mattered little what had been his response. His light tone, as he spoke to her, no trace of the harshness or constant accusations, which had accompanied their relationship for the past five years said it all. His step of acceptance of her truce, though small, spoke gently, like no words ever could and it filled Parker's heart with hope. Because this woman, whose life had been spent mostly in shadows, knew that there was nothing harder than a beginning. And his reply felt like such a wonderful beginning…

If they could put aside their pride, such a great part of their personalities, and all the harsh words, which had been exchanged in the past, if only for a moment, maybe, just maybe… There might be a chance for the future. And there was nothing Parker wanted more.

The memories, which had so abruptly assaulted her that mourning, had been a cruel reality check. The past she had tried, and partially succeeded, burying under pain and misguided anger had, without warning, presented itself again. Regrets for all those missed opportunities had left her near catatonic shock. Her legs, weak, had been unresponsive to her command. Her arms, heavy, had grounded her to the ground like an anchor, preventing all movements… But her heart, so bruised and cold, had burned her chest with warmth, as the melting ice, ever present since that day, revealed only partially by that DSA, witnessed the resurrection of a woman everyone had considered to be lost.

Everyone, but him…

Somehow he had known, or had at least hoped, that she would someday return. So, it was only fair, that it would be him, the first to know. She smiled, he sighed, content, all worries put on hold, as these two friends reunited, after such a long absence…

In idle talk and long awaited laughs, they watched, or rather didn't, the night fade away. Dawn, as announced by the yellowed pink strays breaking the horizon, forced reality in to their minds. However, the connection, which had been reestablished during the long hours of conversation and long periods of comforting silence, was not broken by the sudden appearance of light. Still, reality fought for attention and, after some hesitation, Parker decided it was time to end the call.

" Jar, I have to go. Maybe try to get a couple of hours sleep before having to face that Hell again…" the use of his nickname, long ago discarded, and the soft tone with which it was spoken did little to appease the pretender's frightful soul. Like a pleasant dream, he dreaded consciousness and the discovery that none of it had been real.

"Can I… Can I call you again? I mean, some other time, to talk…" the uncertainty of his voice and the uncharacteristic stuttering brought a heartfelt laugh to Parker's lips. He acted and sounded like a teenage boy talking, for the first time, to the girl he had a crush on. The huntress rather liked that…

" I would love it if you did." It surprised both the woman and the man, the kindness with which those words had been spoken. Jarod's heart fluttered with happiness and he quickly confirmed his intent to comply with her wishes. Parker could practically hear the smile on his words. Simultaneous sighs echoed through the miles that physically separated them.

For a moment, he considered saying goodbye, but ended up choosing not to use such word. They had never parted with a farewell before and he wasn't about to start to. It made things final and he really dreaded that kind of finality. He liked the fact that, somehow, this wouldn't end with the inevitable dial tone. So, in a silent, but mutual agreement, they both hung up.

That day, Parker slept in late…

That morning, Jarod slept…

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Should I keep writing?


	11. Concentration

**DISCLAIMER**: in the fisrt chapter...

A/N: To be honest I have no excuses for the long delay in the postings. Without the muse and with too much needed study, I let myself drift away from the writing. But now, that I finished all that ( THANK GOD!) I will post more regularly. The next chapter is already in progress and I intend to put it up as soon as possible. As always I appreciate all reviews, so keep reviewing!

Special thanks to all my reviewers, especially from chapter 10. I know the wait was long, but I hope you still give this one a chance... **Piscesmarch, Andrea, Nancy, NYT (glad you changed your mind!), Chris, c1, eden, and all the other I will be personally be e-mailing back!**

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**Chapter 11:** IN DEPTH CONCENTRATION

Breathing; a rhythm of inspiration and expiration; involuntary contraction of the diaphragm, filling his lungs with life. There had been a time when that single truth was reason enough to cherish every single moment fresh air graced his lungs. Now, though, it pained him the simple act of breathing, knowing everything he now knew and feeling helpless to change a thing. He hated being smothered by the secrets, which permeated the artificially recycled air hanging so heavily around them all. Ignorance was no longer an option.

Anger built up, as it had many times before, saturated and was quickly replaced by sad resignation. The older man sighed. There was no pointing in getting mad anymore…

The psychiatrist stood, hands within the pockets of his wrinkled trousers, in the middle of the room. Cold concrete walls on all six directions. A dead type of grey oozing oppression. The simlab might of symbolized every single morally wrong thing Sydney had ever helped accomplish, yet it was within this windowless box, that Sydney found a small amount of comfort and of refuge.

_Ironic that…_

Thin irregular beard covered the lower part of his cheeks; the five o'clock shadow just another witness to his long, sleepless night at the Center. Home had felt unwelcoming, even if compared to Hell. Tired eyes roomed the four different corners, recalling the thousands of memories contained there. Memories of a time when he could still fool himself into believing that everything was okay and no harm could come to him and those he loved. Illusions, which had been so easy to believe, but had proven to be so earth shattering when unmasked.

Sigh…

Preparing to leave, Sydney's eyes roomed the simlab once more. However, before his feet could take him away, a hand caught his. Startled at first, he willed his heart to calm back down, when his tired old eyes landed on Angelo's wise full face. Kneeling beside the empath, the psychiatrist kept his hold on the other man's hand with fingers gentle, as not to startle him away.

"There is something I need to know, isn't there? Tell me, Angelo. I'm here. I'm listening…" Displaying the patience he was known for, Sydney waited for an answer. Minutes ticked by and no word was spoken. Neither man moved. Then, like he had done with Broots the day before, Angelo came to life. Rising quickly to his feet, the man dragged Sydney towards the now open air vent and pointed inside.

"Truth"

Angelo gazed intensively at the old psychiatrist, willing Sydney to comprehend what he was unable to convey. No recognition or understanding shone on the Belgium's eyes and the empath grew restless. Sydney needed to see… Holding the wrinkled man's hand more tightly, Angelo pulled him closer and pointed once more.

" Find truth. Help daughter, help friend…"

The empath's pleading eyes continued to beg understanding, as Sydney's forehead creased into a frown. The only one Angelo had ever referred to in that manner had been Miss Parker and Jarod. Shaking his head, trying to clear his thoughts, he felt worry seep in once again. It felt like he was watching the tip of a terrible iceberg.

" I'm here, Angelo, and I want to help." Grasping the childlike man by the shoulders and squeezing the flesh underneath his finger with unnecessary force, he tried controlling his growing agitation. Sydney took a deep breath in and waited for as answer. No word presented itself as such, but Angelo climbing into the air vent and extending a hand his way was more than answer enough.

Throwing his usual caution out the window, regardless of the fact that this rooms had none, and forgetting for a moment his age limitation, Sydney followed the empath in. He took no notice of the ache on his lower back or the creaking sound his knees were probably making as he crawled through the aluminum tunnels. Angelo was his only guidance, available or needed.

No more complacency…

No more sitting idly by as this place destroyed all those he cared for.

No more Jacobs…

No more Catherines…

Determination overshadowed the tiredness of his body and he crawled on, possibilities running through his analytical mind. After what seemed like hours, both men stopped at a dead end, where the vents suddenly stopped. Glancing around, Sydney looked for something of significance. Coming up empty, the older man turned back to Angelo and watched his shoulders move, as his hands worked hard to overcome their lack of coordination and achieve whatever it was they were trying to accomplish.

_Click…_

The aluminum wall turned out to be an obstacle, not a dead end. Sydney watched it shudder, then fall forward, revealing another tunnel, which plunged downwards, into a dark pit, whose bottom remained unseen. Angelo glanced over his shoulder, a grin plastered on his innocent face, a secret glistening in the surface of his blue orbs.

Turning so his back faced the hole, the empath reached his right leg backwards and started his decent, using some kind of ladder to support his weight. There were steps in the shape of holes in the panel, which Sydney had failed to notice before. Stopping for a second, his head on the verge of vanishing from sight, Angelo begged, with a simple gaze, for the older man to continue following.

Sydney complied; eager to learn about the truth Angelo had referred to before, all the while dreading what such revelation could imply. After all, nothing good could have stayed a secret this long…

_Right?_

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After long exhausting minutes of walking and sometimes crawling through the Center's ventilation system, Sydney and Angelo came to a small room, void of anything but the air opening that had brought them there. The air smelled stale and the only source of illumination within the claustrophobic walls came from a flashlight Angelo held in his hand. There was a strange feeling of despair, which weighted down on the old man's shoulders, as he stood upright and glanced around. He couldn't explain what it was exactly, but it was there.

Seeking the light back to Angelo's current position, Sydney watched with small apprehension, as he sat, Indian style, in the middle of the room; if you could it even call it that. Angelo was rocking back and forth, creating new shadows every time his hand, barely griping the flashlight's handle, moved along his upper torso.

Stepping slowly closer, Sydney gingerly sat in front of his companion and though he wished to ask, he refrained from doing so. Nothing but patience worked with the younger man, no matter what Raines said. Another undistinguished amount of time passed… Angelo still rocking and Sydney still waiting, eyes too transfixed on the empath to glance at his wristwatch. Suddenly Angelo stopped. Focusing on the psychiatrist's wrinkled lids, he started to cry.

As the tears cascaded from his eyes, Sydney heard him whisper apologies, urgency growing with every 'I'm sorry' spoken. Sydney tried comforting Angelo, but to no avail. Though he stared him in the eyes, the empath didn't seem to be seeing the older man at all. Worry surged through his heart as the Belgium man recalled the DSA and Miss Parker's dried tear streaked cheeks.

Rising to his feet on a jolt, Angelo wobbled on weak legs towards the air vent opening. He was no longer crying, but anguish could clearly be seen on his face. Stopping a moment and looking back, the empath whispered something and disappeared in the darkness, his flashlight left behind.

_I didn't mean to hurt you…_

Sydney heard those resignation-filled words and rose to his feet as well, rushing to the vents to call Angelo back. He found the younger man sitting a bit back, hidden in the shadows inside the tunnel. Sadness still permeated his whole being and Sydney made a move to reach for him. That's when he saw his face transform. All emotion erased, all that was left was a blank expression.

He had seen that transformation before…

Believing that Angelo was incorporating Miss Parker again, Sydney tried to understand the circumstances that could have led to the moment the empath had been reliving just seconds before. However, Angelo failed to answer any of his questions, shaking his head and clearly abandoning the other person's emotions. Trying to approach it all from a different perspective, Sydney went back to the middle of the room and sat back down. Grabbing the flashlight and directing its beam towards the spot the empath had occupied before, he asked again.

"Who was she talking to, Angelo? Who were the apologies for?" The younger man approached him slowly and laying a hand on the ground illuminated by the light, Angelo glanced back at Sydney.

"Not daughter. Friend… Sad… hurt… bad men come_… Forgotten_… Bad men say_… Forgotten_" Shaking his head, Sydney realized he had been wrong. It hadn't been Miss Parker in that room. It had been his protégé, the man he considered as his son. Jarod. Still, he remained unable to connect all the pieces of the puzzle and that only served to add wood to the fire of his worrisome mind.

_What had happen there?_

" And before, Angelo? What happened before?" his tone still calm, it now carried a certain urgency, which, judging by the empath's reaction, Anglo found rather amusing. Producing another DSA, this one, as the last, without the usual identifying numbers, the younger man placed it on Sydney's hand and fled the room, leaving the psychiatrist behind.

Gripping the disc tightly, Sydney was glad to still hold the flashlight in his hands. That is until he realized he had been left behind.

_How was he going to find his way back?_

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REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW... Oh, yeah, have I already asked for reviews?

**Up next:** the new DSA, Miss Parker and Jarod, of course!


	12. Towards the end

**DISCLAIMER**: in the first chapter...

**A/N**: I would like to thank everyone who has read and specially those who reviewed. With this chapter I start a slow journey towards the end and hopefully, the answers. So I hope you all stick around for a little while longer. And don't forget to review (even an empty one)...

_goldentail (patience grasshoper), julie, whashaza, Starclipper01, Teddy78, THANK YOU FOR REVIEWING!_

This is for my mom, because, no matter what, she always believes in me...

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Chapter 12: **CRAWLING TOWARDS THE END**…

The clicking sound of high heels against the lifeless concrete floor echoed through the semi deserted hallways of the Center's fifth sublevel. There was no urgency in the steps, only the repetitive rhythm they made every time they encountered the ground. Dressed to kill, as was common occurrence for her, Miss Parker was sporting a short, black skirt, knee high boots and a lavender silk blouse, having already discarded the long black overcoat in her office some minutes prior.

The huntress strode in confidently through the lab's door and stopped dead in her tracks. The smile, small, which had started to grow in the corner of her mouth on her way over, dissipated completely at the sight before her.

Lyle…

That psychotic murder had a frown on his brow, which he smoothly disguised when his eyes met hers. The change did not go unnoticed by his sister and a perfectly manicured eyebrow shot up. Casting a menacing glance her way, Lyle placed both hands inside the pockets of his well-pressed Armani trousers and casually left the room. Before he vanished completely from sight, he turned his upper torso around and ordered Broots, who had been sitting in front of his computer, to keep him informed. The tech shuddered once Mr. Lyle could no longer be seen.

With arms crossed and an eyebrow still raised, practically reaching her hairline, Parker scrutinized the computer tech and silently demanded answers. Broots soon jumped into action. Producing a DSA from a pile of papers and research, which had accumulated in the past few days, he came rushing to stand in front of his boss. With an obliviously worried expression painting his features, the tech finally answered her unspoken question.

"Sydney's missing…"

Taking the DSA out of his outstretched hand, Miss Parker quickly retrieved the player and pushed the disc into the slot… This was getting repetitive! After watching, her body bent forward, hands on either side of the table supporting her weight, as Sydney followed Angelo inside the ventilation system and disappeared from sight, she turned back to Broots.

" The heat sensors were triggered and we tried narrowing his location down, but it's like he vanished off the face of the earth. I don't know where Angelo led him to, but no camera caught him and he just… I _don't know_, it's so out of character for him to go crawling the vents… I'm…" _Deep breath_. " I'm just worried and then Mr. Lyle came in and started demanding answers and he seemed really eager to locate Sydney, as if, I don't know, as if he's up to _something _and we all know that's _never_ good news and…"

A hand on his right shoulder stopped his ranting. The sympathetic look on Miss Parker's face, however, did little to appease his nervousness. It seemed that the whole world was falling off its axis! Everyone was acting strangely and rather out of character and Broots found it all to be quite unsettling. He didn't know what to expect anymore…

Turning around deliberately, the huntress watched with curiosity the vent crate and gently touched her lips with her left index and middle fingers. She pondered about the situation and remembered her vision from the day before. Angelo was desperately trying to tell them something and Parker was willing to go all the way to find out what exactly that was.

Poor Broots felt his heart almost desert him through his throat when she quickly turned back around and met him head on. The tech had been standing too close and her movement caught him off guard. Taking a step back, in what appeared as a show of good will, Parker gave him a small smile and ordered him to find the exact spot inside the endless labyrinth, which was the Center's ventilation system, where the sensors had last been triggered before Sydney's vanishing act.

Not waiting for a sign of obedience, nor one of defiance, Parker turned on her heels and quickly exited the lab. Broots, still confused by the uncharacteristic display of politeness, was left to wonder, yet again, what his boss had in mind, all the while dreading it. Her apparent change could have numerous explanations, but it was not, necessarily, permanent and Broots still remembered all the times he had risked his own safety for those blue eyes. Things hadn't changed that much after all and so, he worried.

Sigh…

Dear Lord in Heaven…

Either way, dangerous or not, Broots reached the conclusion that, no matter what Miss Parker's plan was, it would be tremendously better to his own health, if he found the requested information before her imminent return.

_Yes…_

_Much healthier…_

Touching his throat and feeling imaginary fingers wrapped around it, Broots dropped into his chair. He felt the ominous presence of the Center's watchful eye weighting down on his shoulders, as a chill ran up his spine. Typing away into his computer, the tech shuddered…

_He needed a new job…_

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I know it's short, but I am unable to stick to longer chapters (it' s like a disease or something). PLEASE READ AND REVIEW! I am begging here!


	13. NOT UPDATE, Author's note

**A/N: NOT AN UPDATE**

I noticed I've been getting some new reviews and, for some reason, this story has been bumped back to the first page, when I haven't touched it in quite some time. Hence this little note, which I will take down in a couple of days, not to break any rules.

It has been noted by more than one reader that Parker is off character and that this story is filled with too many typos. When dealing with a character as complex - and at times mysterious - as Miss P is, I believe interpretations are valid. The feel of the character which results of this interpretation can please or displease readers and that is a matter of opinion. I respect those who disliked mine. As for the typos, there is no excuse but oversight and, at the time, inexperience, and for those I apologize.

In the matter of updates, as I noted on my profile, this story got away from me and the tale I wanted to tell, got lost. Which is sad.

I actually considered doing a complete rewrite some time ago, taking into account those who seemed to enjoy the plot, despite problems. But I don't have a timetable to offer, nor can I make any promises. Sometimes, rewrites are harder than starting from scratch.

Thank you for those who took the time to leave me a review and those who took the time to read it.

Mary


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